"If dreams are like movies, then memories are films about ghosts"

" You can never escape, you can only move south down the coast" Counting Crows

If I can make it on the 700+ mile car trip with a two-year-old, I will arrive on the South Carolina coast sometime late Tuesday. I am familiar with this drive, as I did my undergraduate education at Clemson University, and it goes...a whole lotta Ohio, the winding roads of West Virginia, a rolling and tunneled North Carolina, and then finally South Carolina-where the soft piny green of North Carolina changes to the needle green of South. The air does get a little sweeter, as the magnolias converge on every highway side. The forest tightens up too, bound together by the parasite of Kudzu, waiting to make its final kill, just as it has been waiting for years.

I left a lot of tired emotions in South Carolina. My family vacationed there through my adolescence, and then I decided to stay for college. After that, gone. Until Tuesday.

It is said that our most memorable times imprint the environment where they were spent. If this is the case, I will be bouncing off of imprints until my head spins. Laughing, crying, loving, being reckless, escaping, and many broken hearts and lost friendships. I remember that the air is so thick and humid that it rests upon your shoulders and curls underneath your chin. Thick and humid and full of heavy imprints. I best not blog for the next week.

A good week to you all.